


Woodward-Hoffmann Rules

by badomens444



Series: Displaced [7]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Eventual Fluri, M/M, Universe Alterations - World Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 08:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badomens444/pseuds/badomens444





	Woodward-Hoffmann Rules

 

Author's Notes: Number 7 of ?? Because I've planned up through 23 at this point and I'm no where near a conclusion for this series.  


Tales of Vesperia is the property of Namco Bandai.  


* * *

 

He was roused from another dream by the sound of groans and a soft whine, followed by muffled coughing. He tried briefly to ignore it, but the continuance of the sound only brought him further and further from the state of restful slumber. It was sudden and rattling and worrying.

Flynn finally got up after the sound only ceased enough for a breath or two. He tread across the dark quiet of his room and to the door that separated him from the room where Yuri had been residing.

Another round of coughs confirmed what he feared, and he knocked on the door. He received a groan as a reply, and a few muffled words. A few seconds went by with nothing further and Flynn chose to enter.

He crossed the small stateroom and entered Yuri's bedroom. The coughing grew louder and Flynn felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle at attention.

"Yuri?"

A groan came from the huddled mass beneath the blankets. Repede lifted his head from beside Yuri, looking at Flynn from his spot crunched up against Yuri in bed.

"Yuri?" He placed a hand tentatively on Yuri's shoulder, feeling very hot skin and muscle just beneath the fabric of his nightshirt. He shook gently. Yuri only groaned again, stretching a little to try to pull the blankets over his head to shield himself. The cough rasped in his throat, a wet rattling in his lungs.

Flynn moved his hand from Yuri's shoulder to his forehead, pushing sweat-plastered hair away from clammy skin. With the barest of touches, he found Yuri burning up.

"Yuri, wake up." He shook him a little harder, finally getting more than a groan as a response. Yuri swatted him away but failed to connect and his arms just sagged back down into the folds of the bed covers.

"Leave me alone...." he grumbled, trying to sink back to sleep.

"You're burning up. I'm going to get the doctor."

"Don't bother. I'll just sleep it off. Be fine in the morning." Before he completely finished the sentence, he had another coughing fit, which he attempted to escape from by curling up further in the bed.

Flynn knew that illness didn't just go away like that. He was going to have to act if Yuri wouldn't. He went back to his room and dressed quickly. Shirt, pants, and boots were all he needed.

If only Estellise was here. Her power was very useful at times like these, but Flynn wondered just how her power would affect Yuri, someone from another world. Could it be lethal, like it had been to the Entelexeia? He was human, though, so it shouldn't have affected Yuri any differently than it did any other human. Right now it was a moot point, because she was in Halure anyway.

A few floors removed from his own were the quarters of the palace physician, as well as several other live-in employees of the Empire. The doctor was none too excited about being woken in the early hours of the morning, but he got dutifully to work and followed Flynn back up to Yuri's quarters.

A brief examination yielded what Flynn both expected and feared. Yuri was quite ill, probably a common cold that went around this time of year. Given rest and proper care, he would be fine in a few days' time. But Flynn couldn't shake the concern that he felt, latched onto him like a hungry beast. Yuri was his responsibility. How had he allowed this to happen?

Yuri grumbled and groaned through the doctor's examination and the medicine that followed. After it was over, and the doctor had gone, he curled back up against Repede, breath still ragged, ready to trigger a cough at a moment's notice.

"Can I get you anything?"

"A nice tall glass of leave me alone."

He didn't quite understand that expression, but Yuri followed up with, "Just let me sleep."

"All right," Flynn managed through his concern. It really was best to just try and let Yuri rest for now. "Call for me if you need anything. I'll be back to check on you in a little while."

"I don't need you to take care of me. No one ever has before."

Flynn left before he could question that statement, and slipped back into his now ice-cold bed. He tried so hard not to think about what Yuri had said. He was probably delirious. In the morning, he would be more willing to have a little help and there would be a little less fevered venom to his bite. In the morning....

* * *

 

 

 

Flynn woke a second time. The sun was up now, warming his bedroom slightly. There wasn't a single breath of a cough beyond the door that separated him from Yuri's quarters. Had the night before simply been a strangely uncomfortable dream? 

Unfortunately, as he was pulling his boots on, Sodia arrived to disprove that small hope. Wordlessly, she led him one floor down, to where Yuri was half crumpled up on the marble floor, fighting to stand, to maintain his consciousness. Repede was with him, offering his back as a brace for Yuri to stand, and seemingly keeping watch until Flynn arrived.

In spite of Yuri's struggle, Flynn only returned him to bed, back where he belonged. He had Sodia bring up some food, which Yuri attempted to turn away.

"I'll force feed you if I have to." Flynn kept calm, but was very serious about the threat.

"Fine." Yuri finally conceded, struggling to sit up and take a bowl of soup from Flynn, who stayed to watch him eat and take a second round of medicine that seemed only to make him gag. It was for the best.

"Ugh. Can I go back to sleep _now_?" His voice was still groggy.

"Where were you trying to go when you were downstairs?"

"Dunno." He welcomed Repede's warm presence into the bed and curled up next to him.

Flynn pressed back his hair once more, a fevered forehead just beneath his fingers. Yuri shrugged him off, fighting to burrow back into his bed, and for the time being, Flynn let him. Yuri was frustrating and stubborn and Flynn couldn't _force_ him to accept the help Flynn was trying offer. That didn't stop him from wanting to try. Flynn had his own stubborn streak.

But Flynn found out very quickly that Yuri was just as eager to butt heads, even while mostly laid up. In spite of his fever, Yuri didn't actually do much 'laying up'. He was just as much a troublemaker as when he was well, save for the fact that his meals had to be nearly forced on him and his coughing gave him away. After nearly a full day of having to usher Yuri back to his own bed from where he had been trying to get away, it was wearing on Flynn's nerves. This was the sixth time today. Three more days of this, on top of Yuri's worsening fever, were problematic enough.

It didn't stop there. Flynn found out second hand that Yuri had been taking aim with a ill gotten slingshot at Chirpees that passed overhead in an effort to drop the creatures onto the heads of people passing through the gardens. He heard of this from at least three members of the Council, and a whole slew of guards. He was apparently quite good at timing the shots just right. Flynn also discovered that he had bullied one of the guards, a young knight named Hachette, into bringing him not only a whole basket of pebbles from the garden and the slingshot, but also as many hard candies from the kitchens as he could manage to carry. Flynn only managed to find out about that last one while overhearing one of the chefs complain about the disappearances. 

There were much more serious actions, though, worse than pranks and sweet thievery. On the second day, he woke to find Yuri sleeping on his sofa, and a little later in a corner of his room. When Flynn returned him to bed again and then returned to check on him, Yuri was nested with Repede and two other large dogs, and at least five of the palace cats. Flynn sent the furry friends, save Repede, away, and gave Yuri a fourth blanket instead. This didn't placate him, but nothing seemed to. 

He stopped taking his medicine, instead spitting it into the potted plant beside his bed. Every night at some point, he would tumble out of bed, and try to creep into Flynn's office and onto the couch with a blanket and Repede once more. 

On the morning of the fourth day, Flynn couldn't contain his impatience with the ill and hauled him right, and maybe a little roughly, back to bed. 

"Would you just stay in bed? Where are you even trying to go?"

"I don't know why you keep bothering to bring me back."

"Because it's my fault that this happened to you and you're my responsibility," he felt himself sag a little bit under the weight of those words.

He shouldn't have been surprised that Yuri took a swing at him, but it still forced him back a step. It was weak compared to ones he had been on the receiving end of before.

"Like hell I am!" Yuri pulled back to swing again, but Flynn stopped his fist before it connected, blocking the attempted assault of his face.

"Look, I'm only trying to help you! Why can't you just accept that?!"

"I don't need you to take care of me! I'm not a fucking charity case!"

"I'm not trying to--!" he broke off. The truth was, before this, he had been treating Yuri as something of a charity case, but now, it was different. He felt something more for Yuri than pity and responsibility. This was different. This was something warm and genuine. "I'm not trying to treat you that way. I only want to help you."

Yuri's angry reply abruptly dropped off into shocked silence, and his fists dropped into his lap. He stared down at them for a long time, as if silently questioning why they were no longer working.

Flynn let that strained quiet last a moment longer before he spoke, hoping that Yuri would hear the raw sincerity there. "Please let me help you." He let that settle a little and waited for a reply.

Yuri finally relented, muttering a soft 'fine' under his breath. He flopped into the bed covers and didn't resist further.

Flynn checked on him regularly between work and Yuri made no further attempts to leave the confines of his bed. He finally stopped by late that night, to find Yuri asleep.

Dark hair spilled messily over pillows and a calm, white visage nestled there. Flynn gingerly, tentatively, brushed his fingertips over Yuri's forehead, pushing back a thin strand of that dark hair. The feverishness was gone, only the warmth of life left in that skin. It seemed that once he had finally given in, he had been able to let the fever break on its own.

Flynn reached over Yuri's sleeping form to scratch Repede behind the ears and pat his belly. The dog had held a steadfast vigil over Yuri the whole day.

"Thanks, Repede," he murmured, and knew the dog could hear him through the heavy and calm silence of the night. Repede let out a yawn and twisted his head to look up at Flynn as he drew back.

For some reason, his hand moved back to Yuri. The fever was gone and there was no need to check his temperature further, but his limbs ceased obeying his brain and he found himself brushing back a little more hair, a larger lock that had fallen into Yuri's face.

That annoying fluttering was back, churning his stomach so hard that he momentarily thought he would be physically ill. Instead, his body did something much stranger, more than a simple touch, something that froze Flynn cold as he forced his body to stop, his lips only inches from Yuri's. He had a thousand questions and not a single answer for any of them.

He withdrew quickly, pacing back into his office, his footsteps so loud that the sound was a thunderclap in the silence of the night.

Flynn slumped onto his bed, trailing a hand through his hair. He worried that he may have woken Yuri, but not a sound followed him. When he finally dared to lift his eyes, to chance a look, the sight at the window caught him first. Softly drifting was winter's first snowfall.

 


End file.
